Better?

People don't seem to understand that tragedy is the parent of art. Without struggle to overcome, adversity to upstage, what exactly is the point? So when my blog seems a bit depressing, it's because I have nothing happy to write about. Not because I'm not happy, of at least content, but because there's little point in recording that state for posterity in multiple variations. Today, I'm happy to report, I'm feeling rather annoyed with this whole smicha thing. See, there's this massive Shach, not to mention an equally daunting Taz, that I simply don't understand, even after spending the better part of a day trying to assimilate whatever of is they're trying to say. A smart guy in Tiferes here, by the name of Adam Epstein, told me tonight that my frustration is a good thing, because you only get frustrated when you care, which I suppose is true. R. Schapiro here says that you won't understand the first time you learn, and probably not the second time either, but if you sweat enough, then good things will happen.

In other news, it seems to me that wifi works better when it's cold than when it's hot. This is of course good news for my iPod, even if it's bad news for my body. Oh well, I suppose that this is one of the sacrifices I have to make to keep my faithful readers happy.